Like misty breath on a chilly day. One second there and real and the next... gone.

And for that, near, half a second I thought that it had happened.

Dreams. Your own picture house of wants, needs, loves, hates and nightmares. Sometimes remembered, sometimes best forgotten. I had one this morning that revolved around my ex wife. It was nice. It was almost as if my mind had distilled the nice bits and goodness of that relationship and presented it to me in that dream. We were in a car together and for some reason I opened up to her and told her what I had been up to, what I had achieved since we had split, what had gone right, what had gone wrong, how I had been in that time. And she listened, we held hands and I wasn't angry or bitter or resentful towards her I just wanted to let her know what I had done and how I had been, the good and the bad. 
When I awoke it was almost real and then the realisation hit and I was left... confused. 
I think mostly I was saddened that it hadn't happened. I think it stems from when we met, sort of met, back in December last year during a reunion for a military thing we were both at. I had spent a lot of time wondering what would happens, all the what ifs and after all that not very much happened at all. I am sure part of me wanted to catch up with her see if any part of her was proud of what I had achieved but realistically it wasn't going to happen. And so I'm left with....this. This surface feeling. Thankfully they aren't as prevalent as once they were, those sorts of dreams. They used to leave me very discombobulated. Now, they just leave me feeling distinctly... meh. 
Yesterday was a good day; today? Not so much. I'd knock on the head and hit the sack if I didn't have things to do and if I thought I would actually sleep.
Big sigh.